Sybil
by Yolashillinia
Summary: "I'd kill for her voice. I had killed for her voice. And I'd do it again…" Sybil can't live without Red. Complete.


Tonight would be the night. Tonight I would be able to get rid of _him_ , and save _her_ , and maybe she would hate me at first, but someday she would understand.  
The same hour that I first heard her sing Paper Boats, I went to my comrades in the Camerata and presented Red as a desirable target. That song, overflowing with adoration and steadfast tenderness for that _nobody_ , should never have been written. I could not have borne it any longer. He had to die.  
And without him there, she would eventually love me as I loved her.  
Then the impossible happened: Red, the Transistor, and he all disappeared into thin air. We stared, uselessly, at the space where they had been. It looked like he had been impaled by the Transistor, so my plan had worked, except now… Now what? Where was she? I needed her!  
Royce suddenly bolted for the door. "I need to get back to Fairview!" he called behind him. "I'll see if there's any way I can rectify the situation from there! I'm not sure, but I think this is really, really bad!"  
I turned to Grant. "I'm so sorry," I said, shaking my head woefully, the brim of my summer hat covering my eyes. "I… I truly thought she was alone, I asked Eloise…" That was a lie, but they believed me. "I'm terribly sorry, Grant."  
"It's not your fault," Grant said. "You once said he would be the most difficult part of this operation, always being at her side."  
"He seems to come and go as he pleases," Asher said darkly. "One of his abilities as an outsider. In any case, the Transistor got him, so when we get it back, we'll be able to use him, too."  
"I believe it also took her voice," Grant said. "Did you see how she tried to scream? Partial transfer occured, at least. We did not completely fail."  
"I'm glad," I murmured. Her voice was the best part of her. I'd kill for her voice. I had killed for her voice. And I'd do it again…  
There was a skittering sound from the front door of the Empty Set, and we all turned… to see a veritable flood of white and red scampering towards us. They did not look friendly. Had Red taken control of the Transistor and turned them against us?  
Apparently the others had come to the same conclusion as well. "Run!" Grant shouted. We all turned to flee down to the Bayside entrance, down to the boats, where the Process would not cross the water to get to us.  
I was too late. It was difficult to run in heels, and a Fetch darted ahead of the rest and latched onto my skirt. I fell to the floor, my parasol clattering on the stage. The rest of them pounced.  
Asher, bless him, immediately turned back. "Sybil!"  
Grant seized him before he could run to my rescue. "No, Asher! We have no way to fight them, not without the Transistor! There's no way we can save her!"  
"But-! …I'm sorry, Sybil!" But Asher let his husband drag him away, away to the boats, Bracket Towers, and safety…  
And I was left alone on the darkened stage of the Empty Set with the torture of the Process working over my body. Bitterness consumed me as completely as the Process did. Red's lover saved her. Grant saved Asher. But there was no one to save me. And she was the only one I loved. I discovered her. She was mine.  
Unbidden, the song she had been singing before we interrupted her came into my mind.

 _You tell yourself that you're lucky_  
 _Lying down never struck me_  
 _As something fun, oh, any fun…_

 _No, Red,_ I thought, _it's not fun. But I'm not lucky._

 _Stabbing pain for the feeling_  
 _Now your wounds never healing_  
 _Til you're numb, oh, it's begun_  
 _Before we all become one, oh…_

Did she know? Did she know about the Process, what it felt like to be transformed by them? Her songs were about ideas, places, people, she couldn't have written this song specifically for my current circumstance, but it was too on the nose. What pain had there been in her life that she could write these words?  
 _Where are you now, Red?_  
I would wait for her here. She would come back, with the Transistor, and then I could explain. And maybe she would save me. Maybe we would become one.


End file.
